Time Alteration
by Feeloves
Summary: The Light has lost and Hogwarts is crumbling to the ground. As a last ditch attempt, Hermione Granger thrusts herself 50 years into the past. But can one device really do the impossible? Can one girl really alter the course of History forever? And what part does 'Love' play in this entire charade? TR/HG. Rating to be safe, for now.
1. Prologue

**AN: Ahmyfrack. I accidentally replaced these chapters forgetting I hadn't saved the ANs and review replies on the actual documents.**

**I am an idiot.**

**I don't remember what went here, but I assume it went along the lines of:**

**First ever Harry Potter fanfiction! Do read, and if possible, let me know what you think.**

**I am a retard that doesn't own Harry Potter.**

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**Prologue**

**No Good Deed Goes Unpunished  
**

"Fuck."

Hermione Jean Granger was not one to revel in such foul language. More often than not, she was the one to chastise others for having used disgraceful terms in their day-to-day conversations, threatening to wash out their mouths with a bar of soap; and having even done so more than twice.

But of her entire lifetime of near sainthood, this particular situation certainly granted her that privilege.

"No. Fuck, fuck, this can't be happening."

Bitter tears slid down pale skin that was covered in an inch of grime, mud and dried blood, giving the 18-year-old an almost grotesque, zombified appearance, making her look much like the Inferi they were trying so hard to take down. But no amount of _Partis Temporus_ will be able to help dig her out of this mess.

Although calling her situation a 'mess' might be a dire understatement.

"Ron. Ron. Please. You can't do this to me. Please. No more games."

Her hand desperately clung onto his bloodless, cold ones as she hastily shoved aside his thick scarf and coat in search of any sign of life. Her mind refused to accept what her skin knew, what her eyes knew. After all, how often did one survive from a Killing Curse straight to the chest? Especially one sent from the Dark Lord himself?

Ron Weasley was no Harry Potter.

"Fuck! Ron. PLEASE!" Her voice had risen to a wail as she clung onto the body of her dead boyfriend as tightly as she could, almost ignorant of the destruction that rose around her. Almost as though if she prayed hard enough, if she held onto him long enough, life would once again appear in those beautiful blue eyes that she loved so much.

Minutes before she saw Ron fall, she had witnessed the death of so many of her closest friends. Luna, Neville, Lavender, Remus, Mr and Mrs Weasley, as well as Professor McGonagoll. Without a doubt there would be more bodies littered throughout the halls of a school she once foolishly thought to be the safest place on Earth.

No one was safe now, no one.

No one had been for the past year.

"Hermione!" She could hear shouts of her name above the din of the war surrounding her. But nothing else mattered except for the immobile body of the love of her life that she held as tightly to her chest as possible.

"HERMIONE!"

The scream next to her ear jerked her into action, wand automatically flicking from the wand holder she had bound to her arm, to her sweaty, shaking hand. Her glossy, tear-filled eyes focused on the messy, dark hair of the boy in front of her. Her breath hitched as she surveyed the disarray that was their saviour, of Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, of the man whom she loved with all her heart. She trembled, knowing exactly what his reaction would be once he noticed… Her heart ached for the both of them as his stormy, brown eyes swept past her and onto the body of their best friend. She could see the life drain from those orbs slowly as his face paled even more.

"Ron..." He moaned with pain that she shared and felt all the way down to her core. "No." His whispered words were harder to hear than the screams of pain that went on in the background.

So much death and destruction…

"Hermione. You need to get out of here. We've lost. Hogwarts is crumbling."

She shook her head; heart refusing to hear the words that she knew, deep down inside, was true.

"Hermione!" Warm, clammy hands grabbed onto her shoulders and shook them, hard. They jarred her back to her senses as her teeth smacked against each other. "Listen to me. You need to get to Dumbledore's office." Even though the headmaster had been dead for a while now, they had refused to call his room as anything but. "You need to do what we've talked about." His eyes steeled over, as once again the Hero they all knew and loved came back into the picture, lost of a loved one momentarily put aside for greater, more important things. "You need to use it."

She wasn't sure how she did it, got past all the Death Eaters and their barriers, got past all of the bodies of those that she loved. She refused to register the Ginny's lifeless eyes, Sprout's cold lips, or the look of terror in Parvati's frozen face. She didn't stop to turn or look, or even breathe until she was behind the double doors of the headmaster's trashed office, where everything of value, including the portraits, had been utterly destroyed by Voldermort's followers. But surprisingly enough, it was empty.

Stepping behind the place where Dumbledore's desk used to be, she reached for a groove on the floor, a little detail that only her nimble fingers could make out. Almost thoughtlessly, almost as though she was brain-dead, her hands went through the motions of removing a small part of the floor and retrieving the small jewelry from within. A trinket supposedly destroyed forever.

A time turner.

They had discovered Dumbledore's final, desperate plan only a week ago, when they plunged head first into his untouched pensive in hopes to find a way-out of the seemingly inevitable end. That was when the Golden Trio realized that even Professor Albus Dumbledore, their only light in this terribly dark tunnel, knew that they did not stand a chance against the risen evil, and had formulated a way out of their little predicament; a plan that they all had hoped would never have required to come to fruit.

And yet, here she was: horror-stricken and exhausted to her bones, clenching onto the Wizarding World's final hope.

How could everything go so wrong? The light was supposed to win, weren't they? Isn't that what they learnt from the very beginning? That good would always prevail?

Self-pity, and pity for everyone that she would leave behind almost overwhelmed her into throwing the device away. How could she run when everyone she loved was dying or dead? How could she leave them all behind to face this horrifying, endless nightmare while she disappeared? What would they think of her if they knew that she turned tail and fled?

How could she leave Harry here by himself?

Quietly, desperately, she prayed that her best friend would not come across the body of the youngest Weasley; her broken, naked body now stamped in her mind. That would be the final straw, the breaking point for even someone as impossibly strong-willed as Harry Potter. After all, who could bear to see their most loved one defiled and killed in that way?

Thundering footsteps began to echo through the hall outside. Hush, furious voices springing her frozen body into action.

As her fingers turned the dial, she couldn't help the tears streaming down her face as the events of the day truly hit her. They had lost. The Light had lost. And now she was all they had.

Suddenly, a loud, deafening applause jarred through the entire castle, nearly causing the time turner to slip from her sweaty fingers. It was more dark and poignant than cheerful as the familiar voice of Lord Voldermort filled the school.

"We have done it my loyal followers!" Her heart stopped as a sob rose from within her, despite her attempt to stop it. She pressed down on the device, feeling the familiar lurch that she had gotten used to in her third-year. But it didn't work fast enough for Voldermort's words would forever haunt her dreams, present, past, or future.

"Harry Potter is finally dead!"

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**As mentioned before, I am a total and utter idiot. But I am going to assume these notes went something along the lines of: I hope you enjoyed this! I really did spend quite a bit of time on it, and reading back on it now, I must say I am a little bit proud of myself for a prologue. =P**

**Do let me know what you think. I always love reviews (who doesn't) but I would appreciate any favourites and follows too! =P Teehee. But honestly, the more you let me know what you think, the better I can get at writing, which is the point of doing this entire thing anyway.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapters! (Although they are already up!)**

**Fy**

**x**


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Tada! Chapter One for realsies!**

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**Chapter One**

**I Dream A Dream  
**

"Harry Potter is finally dead!"

Lord Voldermort's sonorous voice filled the air, amplified by a simple spell that left no one in the Wizarding World untainted by his words. They would carry throughout Hogwarts, they would carry through Hogsmeade, through London, through every single soul, living or dead, that resided on this Earth. So simple… Five words and he could almost feel the resistance collapse collectively around him. It was simply beautiful.

He could smell the grief in the air, together with the putrid, wondrous stench of his good friend, death, as well as pain and darkness.

It was a wonderful, glorious day for the dark side.

Cheers and praise rose from his pitiful followers around him, deafening in their sheer number. He could hear the clambering of the trolls and giants, the incomprehensible roars of the werewolves and inferi, the yells and excitement from his Death Eaters. Now that the Golden Boy was dead, now that that idiot, Dumbledore, was dead; there was no one that could possibly stop him now.

No one.

He could not stop the large, sadistic grin from splitting across his face, making him look far more menacing than he had in the midst of the battle. He watched, delighted as the remaining fighters from the other side quickly crumbled under the weight of his army, resolve lost when they spotted the corpse of their 'Hero'.

And all he had to do was show him the image of his darling red-haired blood traitor; broken and battered from the rape that his followers undoubtedly bestowed on her, for him to lose his wit and composure… And that foolish mistake cost him his life.

What a pity, he barely even put up a fight.

The Dark Lord stepped down from the stairs, walking slowly towards the body of the boy that had avoided the inevitable for so long. He was the reason he looked the way he looked, the reason that he had been so weak for so long… Fury and indignation fueled him, causing his eyes to flash a scarlet red as he stared down at the smiling corpse. Even in death the boy mocked him. But nevertheless, no matter how much the dead grin, the dead remain dead.

But just as he opened his mouth in glee, ready to celebrate and boast about their accomplishments, a fresh wave of… Something, hit him so hard that he bent over with a gasp.

What in the living-

Again, his body lurched, as though something extended its hand and dug it into his chest, grabbing onto his heart and tearing it out of his bare breast while it was still beating. The pain was excruciating, unbearably so… And that was saying something coming from the shadow of a man who had his soul torn into seven pieces.

Agony ripped through his entire being, lighting his body with the fires from Hell.

And just like that, the Dark Lord collapsed to the ground – unconscious.

"Merlin. Is she okay?"

"She's alive, although barely." Hermione could hear the grimace in the man's voice, could feel strong arms circling around her, carrying her as though she weighed nothing. Which she probably did, since she hadn't had anything to eat in a very long time. But for the life of her, she could not find the strength to make a sound, or even open her eyes.

"Where did you find her? Why does she look like this?" A woman this time, kind, warm... Reminded her strangely of Molly. Poor, dead, lifeless Molly. Sweet, gentle, motherly Molly.

Her chest ached.

"It was strange. Armando and myself were having a discussion in his office when she crashed right into the desk between us."

She winced inwardly when she heard those words. She was going to have a Hell of a time covering for that little accident. But her muddled thoughts were washed away as soon as she was set down on something soft and strangely foreign. A bed perhaps? A real bed?

Hogwarts had been nothing more than a battlefield for the past few months. Whatever little rations they had were shared sparingly amongst the students. Few students stayed, and even fewer lived. It was all in all a sad, sad situation, as Elton John might have said. Bed, food, water, showers, such things were luxuries that they could no longer afford. Strange to think she could have them at abundance now.

"She's in a bad shape... We best..." The voices faded away gently, as the darkness took her back into her warm embrace.

Hermione Granger opened her eyes slowly, wincing as she tried to grow accustomed to the bright lights, eyelids fluttering against the burning sensation of too-dried eyes. It took a while for her vision to clear and for the room to stop swaying. The unmistakable antiseptic scent of potions struck her sensitive senses and was quick to bring her back to reality. The dramatic change in scenery from the battlefield to a seemingly innocent infirmary made her feel very uneasy. Where exactly was she?

"Ah! I see you're awake!"

A plump, well-endowed woman of her late 50s approached her, black curly hair bouncing with each step. She was wearing an outfit similar to Madam Pompfrey's, except they were maroon instead of brown, making Hermione automatically assume that she was the nurse. She bustled around her, supporting her back and placed a couple of pillows behind her, all while settling numerous bottles of potions on the bedside table to her right. "You gave us quite a scare there, coming here looking the way you did. Thankfully, most of the wounds were superficial and only skin-deep." She then frowned and muttered softly to herself, "And that most of the blood was not your own."

Hermione pretended not to hear her.

The bushy-haired teenager cleared her throat, looking at the nurse with uncertain eyes. "Where… Am I?"

The matron took a step back, kind eyes filled with surprise. "Why… You're in Hogwarts of course! The infirmary. Did you not know that?"

Hermione didn't reply, suddenly lost in thought. So she had made it. It was a success. Since she did not recognize the nurse… That must mean Dumbledore's plan had worked. But did she get the right year?

But before she could open her mouth to ask, the nurse turned away, eyebrows raised as she openly welcomed the man that had just entered the Hospital Wing. "Albus!" She cried out in delight. "Our guest has finally awakened."

Hermione's head snapped to the side, surprised to have not heard his entry, causing her to wince as that particular action led to a thousand hammers forcing their way into her head. The nurse was quick to catch this, attention snapping back to her, chastising her for being so foolish.

"Ah Madam Rosenthal. I heard, and came here immediately. Armando is otherwise held up at the moment, but he should be making his way here."

The younger version of Albus Dumbledore filled her vision as he came to a stop right before her bed. She stared at him, mouth wide open as she drunk in the sight of a man that had been dead for more than two years now. He looked much more youthful, with long auburn hair cascading down his back. He was dressed in peculiar purple robes, combined with a cheesy purple wizard hat that made the man appear more animated than serious. He watched her calmly, although clearly astonished by the sheer reverence and disbelief that coated her features. Hermione quickly cleared her throat, forcing herself to look elsewhere.

Dumbledore! Alive!

Relief flooded through her, and for the first time in months she felt her shoulders relax slightly. If he was here… That must mean she had a fighting chance.

The professor said a few words to the matron, who quickly left to busy herself with other things, but not before instructing her to drink three of the potions that sat beside her. He summoned a comfortable wooden chair and settled himself down on it.

"Do you know where you are, my child?"

Hermione hadn't really thought this through. Times were so desperate, things changed so fast… That she hadn't had the time to come up with a plausible story, to invent a plan to deal with this situation. After all… What was she supposed to say?

So instead, she just nodded slowly. "Yes… Hogwarts. The nurse just told me."

"Do you remember anything? How you got here?"

His gentle, soft voice was what undid her. Unshed tears filled her chocolate brown orbs while her hands unconsciously clenched into fists. The blissful moments of unconsciousness were the first rest her mind had in ages, but now that she was fully awake, the events that had occurred moments ago crashed down onto her like a solid brick wall.

Dumbledore watched on, alarmed, yet seemingly understanding of the grief that graced her delicate features. "Here." He reached over and handed her a purple bottle that she immediately recognized to be Dreamless Sleep Potion. She looked up, momentarily surprised, before gratitude filled her eyes.

"Thank you." She whispered softly before taking a couple of sips, and entering the realm of numbing peace.

When she came to it was dark. The curtains around her were drawn so she could not see what was going on around her. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, but she felt extremely refreshed and rejuvenated. Giving herself a quick one-over, she noted that most of her wounds were completely healed and for the first time in a long time, she felt quite alive.

Shifting so that she could settle her bare-feet onto the cold, marble floor, she reached for the clothing that lay at the foot of her bed. Quickly dressing herself in the given, casual, black robes, she shifted the curtains.

"Professor Dumbledore." She gasped in surprise when she noticed the auburn-haired teacher having a casual conversation with the matron – Madam Rosenthal, if she remembered correctly.

"Ah. You've awakened! I suppose my calculations were quite accurate then." He dismissed the nurse, before heading towards her. "I see that you are well enough to get out of bed."

She nodded slowly, "Yes sir. How long have I been asleep for?"

"A day and a half. The potion was stronger than we thought on someone your size. But no matter, it helped speed up your recovery and the wondrous Madam Rosenthal here," he gestured to the beaming woman that flashed them a wide smile from the other side of the infirmary. "Has given me permission to take you out of here as soon as you woke. Assuming you're up for it."

Hermione stretched experimentally, reveling in the lack of pain that seemed to have become a constant recently, before smiling softly. "I would like that actually."

"Come come then."

The future Headmaster gestured at her to follow him out of the Hospital Wing. Sending a grateful wave towards the matron, she hurried to follow him.

"I hope you understand that I don't mean to be rude but… Do you remember your name?"

Hermione Granger blinked, staring up at the familiar eyes of her headmaster. How could he not know- Oh.

Right.

She shifted her gaze so that she was looking at the floor. "Hermione Granger sir."

"Do you feel well enough to answer some questions, Ms Granger?" His blue eyes flashed with obvious concern as he peered down at her. Not really. She wanted to say, but that would just be her putting off the unavoidable. "Unfortunately, we can no longer hold off these questions. Professor Dippet, who is our Headmaster-" She looked up, slightly surprised. But stored away that information for later use. "-had agreed to keep this incident away from the Ministry of Magic for now, provided that you are not a threat to our student body and have understandable means to what you are doing here. As well as how you managed to enter Hogwarts when it is not possible to apparate within the castle walls."

A threat? Her? She looked down at her scrawny body, and then back up the one of the most powerful wizards she had ever had the pleasure to meet and stared incredulously. The thought was almost laughable. "A threat sir? Me?"

Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head sadly. "Unfortunately, anyone can be seen as a threat, especially with Grindelwald-" Grindelwald! So she must definitely be at the right time then. "-rising in his power. We cannot be too careful, even with young teenagers such as yourself."

"Ah…" She went silent, unsure how to continue this conversation – if you could call it that. Hermione gnawed at her bottom lip, a horrible habit that always came out whenever she was feeling nervous. Even now her great intellect was stumped. How exactly was she to get out of this pickle?

Dumbledore leaned forward, blue eyes twinkling slightly. "However… I have cause to believe that you are here for a certain reason. A certain purpose although I am not sure what."

"What would make you think that?"

"Two things… One, you called me Professor Dumbledore, when I have not introduced myself to you. Not Mister Dumbledore, which you might have had you heard of me from outside sources… But Professor. Which is strange considering I don't recall having ever met you."

Hermione cursed her carelessness, and gulped heavily.

"Furthermore…" He continued, reaching into his robe to retrieve a familiar looking trinket. "There is this." Gasping, her hand automatically went around her throat where the time turner should have been and found it bare. Damn her inability to keep track of what's going on.

"So Ms Granger… Could you possibly tell me where you are really from?"

She weighed her options. Dumbledore was certainly trustworthy, especially since he was the one that came up with this whole plan in the first place… Perhaps confiding in him would be the right thing to do. She hesitated a moment, before casting a non-verbal spell that would deter anyone from listening to their conversation. Her apt in wandless magic was not lost on Dumbledore however, but the older man just raised an eyebrow and chose not to comment. Breathing in deeply, she began to tell him everything.

The soon-to-be headmaster listened carefully and quietly, taking in everything she said and believing it too; although she wasn't exactly sure how. She left out unimportant bits, or pieces that she knew even Dumbledore should not know. Essentially, all she told him was of her upbringing, the war, and a final, desperate attempt to fix things by running into the past.

"Ah... How... Brave of you." He stared at her gravely, what looked like tears gathering in the very corner in his eyes, although Hermione was quite sure she was mistaken. "Such a heavy burden on such young shoulders." He sighed, shaking his head. "Tell me no more, Ms. Granger, for there must be a reason you are here, a reason I should know not about."

"Thank you sir." He always understood, no matter the occasion. And his ability to do so still astounded her.

"Well... Keeping such information from Armando would be almost impossible, especially since you did land right into his lap…" Hermione's face reddened considerably while Dumbledore pretended not to notice "Thankfully, none of the staff has seen or heard of you yet, and Madam Rosenthal is not one to gossip. Will you not be adopting a new name?"

She shook her head. "There is no real point to it. Since I'm a muggleborn."

"Ah... Alright. Well... The first years have all arrived and settled into the Grand Hall. It is time to get you sorted m'dear. I will inform our Headmaster the circumstances of your arrival and I am sure that we can come up with a clever cover story between us. I take it you know where the Grand Hall is?" The bushy-haired girl nodded. "Good good. Although you will have to be careful with showing such knowledge too early on. If the others are to believe that you are a transfer student, you will need to act as though you don't know anything about the school."

"Professor?" She inquired softly as she stood up slowly.

"Yes my dear?"

"I'm really glad to see you." Her voice trembled slightly and Dumbledore couldn't help but feel a little pang of pity for the strange girl. In all his years he had never come across one so young with that grief-stricken, haunted look. He could still remember the panic, dread, fear and agony that overtaken her the last time they had talked, and even now he could sense it brewing beneath the surface. She had not lived an easy life, indeed.

"As I am you Ms Granger."

'_As I am you.'_

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**I do not remember what went here either. Especially since I wrote these a long, long time ago. But uhm... I assume it has to be replies to the reviews I got at that time. Which would seem quite superficial for me to type out again since I don't remember them.**_  
_

**But either way, thank you so much everyone who did review, comment, follow, or favourited. I really really appreciate it. And if any of you are writers, you'd absolutely understand. I hope that my depiction of the events that have occurred, and that will follow are believable. I hope that you guys will enjoy the following chapters as well.**

**Don't forget! I will ALWAYS appreciate any feedback from my darling readers.**

**Teehee.**

**See y'all next chapters.**

**Love,**

**Fy**

**xx**


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Do you know how difficult it is to sort out the timeline and stuff? Holy smokes.**

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_"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, and the things you never want to lose." - Unknown_

**Chapter 2**

**Que Sera, Sera**

It was only when his fingers traced the familiar, polished wood of the Slytherin table did he allow himself to release the breath that he did not even know he was holding.

Tom Riddle was home at last.

The Grand Hall was decadently decorated for the Welcoming Feast, as it was each year. But for some reason, he felt as though this day triumphed over any previous in terms of aesthetics. Although one might describe his taste for beauty to linger slightly on the ominous side, he always made an exception for Hogwarts; and only Hogwarts. The bewitched ceiling opened to the infinite sky, a sneak peak into the darkening heavens. It was a dusky night, with traces of lightning that flashed in between the countless stars. Hundreds of floating candles combined with the gleam of golden utensils served as an antithesis to this poignancy, and at the end of the Hall hung four large, glamorous house banners that tied up the entire scene with a big, fat, beautiful bow.

Or perhaps this newfound appreciation was due to the fact that this was his last, and final year in his beloved castle, that this was the last time he would be welcomed home with such flourish. A sad thought, a depressing thought, but Tom was not one to dwell on matters that cannot be helped. The future was bright, especially for one with his selected set of… Abilities.

Around him his fellow Slytherins discussed the mundane activities of their summer. Holidays, shopping, newly acquired items… None of which could hold a candle to the recent events in his life. Events that he was sure would make the History books one day. Almost subconsciously, he fingered the new ring that sat on the middle finger of his left hand, a beautiful heirloom… A 'gift' from his only living ancestor, one that he was sure to treasure.

The familiar, incessant, pitter-patter of small feet broke the dark-haired teen out of his thoughts. Shifting to ensure that his face remained a stoic neutral, he reluctantly turned his attention towards the young group of excitable first years that entered the Hall. Once upon a time he stood amongst the lot, eager to make his way in this vast, beautiful world. What an odd thought, to imagine that he, Tom Marvolo Riddle, was once weak. No, never as weak as any of the worthless youngsters that stood before him, but weaker than his current state at least.

Professor Dippet stood just as the first years stopped before the sorting hat. Droning on about the dangers of the Forbidden Forest amongst other things, warnings that Tom had never cared to heed. He then introduced two new teachers, both of which the teenager knew were from pureblood families, before the long process of sorting began.

"Think we will be getting any actual useful students this year?"

"Merlin, I hope so. Last year's pick was horrid. More and more useless each year. Honestly."

"At least we'll have a fresh batch to torture."

Tom barely bothered to pay any attention to the new Slytherins, or the new anything. But he was somewhat glad to see that out of the entire batch, Slytherin once again reigned in terms of well-known pureblood names. It is for that reason Slytherin was the dominant house.

"Ah, welcome, welcome, our newest students." He frowned slightly as he watched the Headmaster stand up. It was unusual for Dippet to say anymore after the sorting was done. "I understand that we are all eager for the Feast but I do have one more announcement to make."

Clearing his throat, he continued. "For the first time in a long time, Hogwarts is accepting its first transfer student. She comes from America, having forced to flee due to Grindelwald's growing influence and will be joining our seventh years. I trust that you will make her feel as welcomed as she would if she had been here all along."

"I present you, Hermione Granger."

For the first time in the entire night was his interest piqued. He had never heard of a transfer student before, at least not during his years of schooling, neither did he recognized her last name. The wooden door at the side of the hall opened slightly, before a young girl began walking towards the sorting hat.

Whatever he was expecting, it certainly wasn't this.

The girl was exceedingly thin, unhealthily so. Even from the distance he could see that her face was ashen from malnutrition, and her hand-me-down robes nearly swallowed her tiny figure. She was of reasonable height, with thick, bushy brown hair that fell messily to her shoulders. She was clearly nervous, since her hands were clenched into tight fists, but it did not stop her from gliding confidently towards the sorting hat, with her head held high and back ramrod straight. True Pureblood characteristics, in his opinion. And she was somewhat attractive, in that fiery, determined way.

Now curious, Tom Riddle watched, and waited.

**###**

"I would like to present to you two of our newest faculty members. Professor Phurmeus Burke, who will be taking over Arithmacy; and Professor Charlus Potter, Defense Against Dark Arts."

Hermione stumbled; nearly colliding into a chair when the Headmaster's hoarse voice echoed into the room. She theorized this must be the where Harry and the other champions waited during their fourth year for the Triwizard Tournament, and had been pacing back and forth due to the butterflies that refused to leave her stomach alone. But she had been utterly unprepared for Dippet's announcement.

Charlus _Potter_? Could he be related to Harry?

The Potters were a well-known pureblood name. And it is not often that you come across one that wasn't related to each other. Quickly doing the math in her head, perhaps this Charlus person is Harry's grandfather? She collapsed onto a plush maroon armchair, befuddled. Harry's grandfather could be teaching her DADA. Now that was going to take some getting used to.

Not to mention, if Harry was an exact replica of his father, James. Could Charlus look like them? Could she really handle watching a twin of one of the people she loved the most in the world, one that had died a mere three days ago in her time, teach? Hermione moaned, sinking deeper into the velvet as the thoughts of the people she lost and left behind wormed their way into her conscious.

She struggled with herself, a losing battle to contain the grief that threatened to swallow her whole. She hadn't had the time to really go over her losses, events flying by so rapidly that even her quick mind struggled to keep up with everything that was going on. But the one shining beacon in this blight was the knowledge that she was here with a purpose, a purpose that could possibly save everyone she loved. All she had to do was located a certain dark-haired Slytherin and end his life.

She momentarily wondered why Dumbledore didn't attempt to do such a feat earlier, or at least sent her further back in time so that she might eliminate him as a baby. Wouldn't that be far easier than facing a grown-up, Lord Voldermort? Albeit he will be seventeen going on eighteen, and his skills would surely not be able to match up to his eighty-year-old self. Why his seventh year? Why take the risk? Hermione frowned to herself, hand running through her hair, maybe Dumbledore, or at least the future one, had a specific plan that he failed to tell her. Because it just didn't make sense.

"-Granger!"

The call of her name snapped her back into reality and the girl jumped to her feet, heart pounding. She had been so lost in her thoughts she completely forgot the reason she was pacing in the first place. The sorting!

Suddenly, the nerves were back in full blast. What if the sorting hat knew that something was up and announced it? What if it refused to place her because she had been sorted before? What if she ended up in, God forbid, _Slytherin_?

Knowing that she didn't have time to mull over the possibilities, she hurriedly moved out of the room and towards the innocent looking hat that sat on a wooden stool. Gulping audibly, she sent a half nervous smile towards the woman teacher that beckoned at her to sit down, suddenly struck by the memory of her Professor McGonagoll and the sorting of her very first year, she felt the tatty leather being placed onto her crown.

_'You have been here before haven't you...? Strange. And curious, really curious.'_

The familiar, deep voice of the sorting hat caused her to fidget slightly. She didn't used to feel this way, but as the war tore on, knowing that someone, or something had the ability to read all her thoughts scared her. She resisted the urge to shiver in the wooden seat, and stared impassively on instead.

'_A Gryffindor by heart... A Ravenclaw by mind and a Hufflepuff by soul… Yet there is something more, something different. You've changed.'_

Well, if you were to watch everyone you knew and love die in front of you, you would change to. She nearly spat out. But instead, she forced her mind to clear.

The hat scoffed. '_Occlumency does naught when it comes to me, my dear lady. Perhaps Slytherin? Yes… That house could certainly bring out your true potential… No? But what is so bad about that? You'll be a step closer to your goal as well…'_

The words it spoke were true, but the mere thought of being in the same common room, or dormitory, full of Death Eaters made her sick beyond measure, not to mention Lord Goddamn Voldermort will be there, watching her every move.

'_I suppose if I've sorted you once, I can sort you again.'_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

There was a deafening cheer as the hat was lifted from her head. She caught the woman' puzzled stare, but was a little too happy to care. She smiled widely, the same happiness from 7 years ago tearing through her as she took quick strides towards the wooden table full of cheering students.

Gryffindor was after all, home.

As she sat down in the only available seat left she was clasped on the shoulders by many warm, kind hands; as well as happy welcomings.

"Welcome to the best house ever!"

"That sorting hat took forever! What was he saying to you?"

"How lucky we are to have you! Especially since we've never got a transfer before."

"What classes are you taking?"

"America! Blimey, that's super cool! What is it like there?"

"Grindelwald huh? My aunt and uncle are having a hard time getting away from him as well. But no worries, Hogwarts is super safe!"

The torrent of voices was stopped short when Professor Dippet stood up to give a final, short speech before the jeweled platters before them instantaneously filled with food; delicacies that Hermione only dreamt of in the past couple of months. Her stomach growled rudely and the bushy-haired teen blushed, grateful that the excited chatter of her new peers covered it up.

"Hi." A voice to her right called out, and she reached over to shake the out-stretched hand belonging to a freckled redhead with wildly messy hair. "The name is John Lutterworth. Gryffindor's resident prankster."

"And utter failure at that." Interceded a boy next to him; a larger, good-looking, dark-haired teen with startlingly beautiful hazel eyes.

"Oh sorry, was I talking to you?" John huffed out, glaring playfully at his friend.

"Nope. But I had to save the beautiful lady from your ugly grasps."

"Sod off. I saw her first."

"Ignore them both will you." A short, plump, kind-looking boy with auburn hair rolled his warm brown eyes. "Absolute buffoons."

"Awh, come on Iggy. There's no need to be mean."

"Yeah, we're just trying to be nice."

Hermione had to stifle a laugh as warmth spread through her at the jovial display of affections. The way they teased each other reminded her of being at the Burrow with the Weasleys and Harry. Jokes back home were few and far in between ever since Voldermort started gaining the upperhand... Shaking her head to remove the nostalgic thoughts, she introduced herself. "My name is Hermione Granger."

"Nice to meet you Hermione. I am Ignatius Prewett, and the troll over there," he gestured to the tall, handsome boy, "is called Falco Potter."

It took all of her willpower to stop from exclaiming in surprise as her attention snapped back to the dark-haired teen who offered her a suggestive wink. Now that she looked properly, he did bear some resemblance to her own Potter, with the way his messy hair refused to be tamed. But aside from that, they looked very unlike each other. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

The last thing she needed was to have a physical representation of Harry everywhere she went.

"You see our new Defense Against Dark Arts teacher? That's Falco's brother." Ignatius continued to explain, gesturing to the attractive man sitting at the staff table who was chatting animatedly with the woman who had been in charge of the sorting. He looked to be around his mid 20s, definitely youngest amongst the staff; a splitting image of his brother, but once again, nothing like her best friend. "And the two charming ladies sitting at my sides are Lavinia Brown," A distant relative of Lavender no doubt, "and Yolanda Lovecraft."

"An absolute pleasure." The one called Lavinia smiled sweetly as she too shook her hand. She was really pretty; petite and slim with silky light brown hair that cascaded down to her mid-back.

"It is really nice to meet all of you."

"Vice versa, and welcome to Gryffindor. I'm sure you'll find that people here are friendly and are willing to help you in any way you need."

"Just watch out for those two though." Yolanda added, shifting to push her black-framed glasses up her nose and tugging at her cropped black hair. "They are bound to get you in trouble if you listen to them."

The said pair pouted childishly as they chimed together. "Oh Lavy, Yoles. You two are just being mean now."

Hermione watched on, barely able to hide her smile. Even though John and Falco looked nothing alike, they acted very much like Fred and George Weasley. She was, however, briefly surprised when Falco leant over the table to deliver a quick kiss to the black-haired girl, before smiling widely and whispering something in her ear that caused the poor girl to turn scarlet.

John reached over to smack his friend on the hind. "Okay okay, we get it, you two are in love. Now how about stop making the rest of us sick and let us get on with our meal."

Falco grinned, "Sick with jealousy, more like."

Hermione just shook her head and smiled, a peace that she hadn't felt in a very long time settling over her.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all?

It was towards the end of the meal that she felt the familiar sensation of being watched; a tell-tale prickle at the back of her neck, a trained instinct after being on the battlefield for so long. She placed down her utensils, before scanning that Great Hall carefully to look for the culprit.

"What's wrong Hermione?" John asked when he noticed her halting in her meal.

"Yeah. Please don't tell me you've stopped eating. You're too skinny for your own good." Ignatius gave her a once-over with a Molly Weasley look of disapproval.

She remained silent for a moment, still halfway through checking out the school's population when a boy in Slytherin garb caught her eye.

He was extremely handsome, with tidy short black hair and pale skin. His angular features did nothing but compliment his dark eyes and sinewy musculature. But what caught her attention was the fact that he was staring at her with such intensity that she had to stop herself from blushing. And just like that, he looked away. Not in the ashamed way one might if they had been caught staring, but with aloofness, as though she had just imagined the whole thing.

"Who's that?" She asked softly, nudging her new friend slightly.

The boy looked up from his treacle tart and followed her inconspicuous gesture. He frowned slightly when he noticed who she was talking about.

"Him? Oh he's our new Head Boy."

Lavinia turned around to get a better look at who they were talking about, before grinning at Hermione. "It is no wonder you noticed him. Aside from our very own Falco Potter over here, he's one of the better looking guys in our year." She let out a sigh of admiration. "Tall, dark, handsome, mysterious... Everything you want in a man really."

"Yeah. If you want to date an asshole." John grumbled.

"That is not true and you know it. He's actually really smart, and super nice. Top in almost every class and he has never turned down an offer to help. Like I said, perfect man."

"So what's his name?"

Lavinia let out another lovesick sigh, and said with true reverence:

"Riddle. Tom Riddle."

* * *

**Another chapter done. =] I have a maths exam on Thursday so I'm not going to write another super long AN. =P**

**Do let me know what you think. If you believe my portrayal of Riddle was believable. I never had to write from the bad guy's POV before and it's sorta kinda cool. Not sure if it was an absolute fail, but if it is. Do let me know and possibly what I can do to improve it. If you like it, let me know anyway!**

**Three reviews this time! Maybe for this chapter we can make it four? Or is that pushing it. **

**xoFallenAngelxo: Thank you for your kind words. I'm excited too. I have so much planned. It's going to be one dark journey though!**

**Helljumper_1337: Madam Rosenthal is an OC, because I don't know what the matron was called during Riddle's time. It took me forever to try to find some form of connection between everybody. Two hours of research. I'm trying to keep it as close to the cannon as possible, in terms of characters' ancestors and whatnot. =] Thank you for reviewing, as per always. You are the absolute best.**

**Sweet Sweet Hedwig: Thank you! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the rest that are to come!**

**Also, do let me know, you Harry Potter fanatics out there, if there is something odd in terms of the characters and stuff. I am trying to keep it as realistic as possible, with who is who and who is who's parents, grandparents, etc.**

**I know. Harry Potter's grandfather? Granduncle? Shocker. Don't worry, explanations are to come.**

**Hope to hear from y'all, or see you next chapter!**

**Much love,**

**Fee**

**xx**

**ps. Ohmydays, SO close to 10k words. If only I wrote another 500. =P**


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: My name is not Rowling and I do not own Harry Potter. I do however, own Falco, Lavinia, Yolanda Lovecraft and John Lutterworth. Many of these names are thanks to a friend - PoisonIvy**

"Normal speech."

_'Thoughts.'_

"_Spells._"

_Memories_

* * *

_"Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal." - Unknown_

**Chapter 3**

**Transition  
**

"'_Mione?"_

_A pause._

"…'_Mione."_

_Another pause._

"_Hermione..."_

"_Mmm…?"_

"_Hermione."_

"_Hmm?"_

"_HERMY-OWN-NINNY!"_

"_WHAT?" The 18-year-old girl exclaimed, finally looking up from the intricate runes that she had just been laying out at the entrance to the Great Hall. It was difficult, intense work that caused sweat to drip down her forehead, gathering quite repulsively at the collar of her emerald robes. But Hermione hadn't given two Knutz about her appearance for the longest time; she wasn't about to start now._

_She swerved around, prepared to smack a certain classmate over the head for interrupting her. The only reason she wasn't tempted to straight-up kill him was the fact that she had just finished, and this little odd thing called 'Love'. Only to stop, mouth wide open at the sight before her._

_What in Merlin's name-?_

_Ronald Bilius Weasley had certainly grown leaps and bounds in the 7 years that she had known him, filling out in places that she hadn't imagined he would when she was 11. He had always been tall, but now at 6'4", he was a giant in comparison to Harry and herself. But what caused her to stumble in shock was not his sinewy good looks, nor his impressive stature; but the fact that he was clad in formal dress robes, ones that she had never seen before. The deep maroon velvet complimented his fiery red hair and highlighted his sparkling blue eyes, swirling to end impressively at his feet where a pair of formal leather shoots peaked from underneath. In his right hand was a bouquet of flowers: a mixture of roses, orchids and lilies, its wondrous scent providing a stark contrast to the bleak surroundings._

_She continued to gape, unsure of what to make of the situation._

_Her boyfriend cleared his throat, nerves showing quite obviously from the way he gnawed at his bottom lip, something he picked up from being around her so often. Taking a deep breath, he finally spoke, words tumbling out of his mouth incomprehensively._

"_Willyougoonadatewithme?"_

_Hermione blinked, large brain stumped for the first time. "Pardon me?"_

_Ron took another deep breath. "Willyou-" he coughed, "-go on a datewithme."_

"_A date?" She asked, bewildered. Ron had never, ever asked her out on a __date__ before._

_He nodded furiously. "Yes."_

"…_When?"_

"_Now."_

"_Now?" She squeaked. _

_"Yes."_

_"Are you crazy? There is still so much to do!"_

"_Well-"_

"_You have to have been hit by a Confundus charm! Voldermort could attack __at any minute.__ And you want to go on a date? Now?"_

"_Beca-"_

"_What are you thinking? Of all times to grow a romantic bone you choose the moment before all of us could be killed forever? Are you absolutely insane?"_

"_You see-"_

"_Not to mention that-"_

"_HERMIONE!" His bellow cut her tirade short as she once again stared at him in surprise. "Just- just here me out will you?"_

_She could do nothing but nod slowly, stunned into silence._

"_Look. Yes, I know we could be facing him at any moment. I know that we could very well get into a fight right now. But I cannot bear to think that after tomorrow… We won't ever have the chance to do anything together anymore." His grip tightened around the flowers, successfully crushing them beneath his large hands. But he didn't seem to notice. "I can't bear- I can't think-" His voice broke, and Hermione's hand went to her throat as tear sprung unbidden into her eyes. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Look. All I'm asking for is an hour of your time. Just you and me, away from all… This. Away from everybody and prying eyes. Just so that we could be with each other for a moment. Is that too much to ask?"_

"_Oh Ron…" Her own voice trembled at the emotional display. She got onto her feet and dusted her hands on her robes._

_The boy turned away, clearly miserable. "Never mind… I get it. You're right. It was a stupid-"_

"_Yes."_

"_Yeah. It was stupid. I don't know-"_

"_No. No." She stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and turning him so that he could witness her joy-filled expression, brown eyes glistening with tears of joy. "I mean, yes. To the date. Let's do it."_

"_R-Really?"_

"_Yes."_

_They did not disappear for an hour, like Ron promised. But as she nestled herself deeper into his large, warm, sleeping frame four hours later, with nothing but a light blanket covering their bare bodies, she could not help but let out a contented sigh. His impressive robes lay forgotten at the corner of the room, together with the crushed flowers; sweet scent filling the air._

_It had been the best night of her life._

**###**

She recoiled so badly that her bag, a tatty old thing given to her by Professor Dippet that was falling apart at its seams, fell to the ground with a solid thump.

"S-Sorry?"

Lavinia flashed her an amused smile while the two boys to her right just rolled their eyes, assuming that her little mishap was due to the fact that she was 'star-struck'.

"I see even _you_ have heard of him huh? Quite a name to know, so I'm not very surprised." She stole one final glance at the pale Slytherin, before returning to her meal. "But if you intend to get close to him, don't bother though. He's really sweet and all that, but I've never seen him in a serious relationship the whole time he's been at Hogwarts." She sniffed lightly, eyes down casted and Hermione had a sneaky feeling that the petite girl was one amongst the many that tried.

The time-traveler bent over to pick up her fallen bag, before slinging it over her shoulder again, face a little red from the blunder. Her! Hermione Granger! Fancying the most evil git to ever grace this Earth? It was so preposterous that she needed a moment to gather her bearings. She opened her mouth, ready to list out the multitude of reasons as to exactly why she could not possibly be even remotely infatuated with the future Dark Lord, only to stop herself.

It was the perfect cover to watch him anyway.

Ginny and Harry both had explained to great detail what Voldermort looked like when he was 17, especially after finding out Dumbledore's plan. But nothing they told her could prepare her for this. She didn't expect him to look so… Human. Even though they had warned her of his deceitful appearance, she couldn't replace the enemy they knew with anything but the nose-less, red-eyed, disgusting devil that he truly was. The Riddle that sat a mere hall span away from her just looked so… Ordinary. But as she slowly mulled over it while munching away on buttered asparagus, it made sense. After all, if he had been openly spitting evil he surely would not have gotten away with half the things he did.

She waited for the familiar flash of fear, anger, or disgust that normally came with the mention of his presence, but there was nothing. Hermione finally tore her eyes away from the boy, looking down to her clenched fists, the reality of her situation hitting her for the very first time.

She had never killed a person before; sure the young witch had maimed, severely injured as well as crippled other Death Eaters, but she had never actually taken a life.

Before she entered the hall, while fresh grief still coursed through her veins, it was easy for her to picture Voldermort's death so clearly, delivered by yours truly. To imagine the bright green light, the same light that ended her beloved's life, flying from the end of her wand and hitting the snake-like man in the chest, successfully ending his reign forever… That thought gave her so much pleasure, so much relief… To know that she would have avenged the death of all her loved ones.

But as her eyes rose once again to catch those of a certain Slytherin, her breath caught at her throat, choking her slightly. His dark eyes were trained onto her own: blank, emotionless, endless pits that revealed nothing of his true nature.

Could she do it? Could she kill a 17-year-old boy?

"Treacle tart?" John's voice broke her out of her reverie and she jumped, semi-surprised to see that the food had already vanished, replaced by all types of dessert imaginable. "They're really good."

She sent the boy a small sad smile and couldn't help but remember that Harry's favourite desert were treacle tarts, before nodding and reaching over to fill her now empty plate full of delicious things. Who was she kidding? It if meant saving Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Remus, the Weasleys and everyone she had ever loved, she would not paused for a second to deliver the killing blow.

But of course, the middle of the Great Hall would possibly not be the best idea to carry on with her plans. No, she needed to get him alone.

"Well, I hope everyone had a fantastic first meal back." Professor Dippet suddenly announced once the very last morsel vanished from the golden plates, leaving them spotless. "Prefects, if you could direct the first years to their respective common rooms, we shall bid you all a very goodnight."

Hermione got up together with the rest, trying hard to stifle a huge yawn that she felt coming on. Despite today being one of the least physically active in the recent months, her body still had yet to recover from the trials of time travel, not to mention the stress of pretending to be someone she was not was beginning to take its toll.

She had invented story after story during the Gryffindors' grueling questioning. She was sure they had no other ill intentions aside from pure curiosity, but to come up with lie after lie, for an individual that believed largely in the honest truth, was rather exhausting. It was, however, less difficult than she had imagined. The best lies stemmed from truth after all; she told her newfound peers of the devastation that she had left behind, except it was with an American 1940s backdrop instead of the 1990s Hogwarts. In the end, she still could not bring herself to mention her losses and the others stopped prying the moment she began to retreat into herself. They tried hard to change the topic so that she would not wallow on miserable affairs, which was extremely sweet of them, but the damage had been done. The pain was still too raw to be tempered with and she stopped taking an active part from the conversation, choosing to listen instead.

That too proved to be fruitful in the end. She learnt a lot about Falco Potter and Yolanda Lovecraft's romance from Ignatius. They had been entranced with each other from the very first potions lesson where they had to spend a week in solitary confinement as a result of having turned a simple cold medicine into a highly infectious disease; and they had been together ever since they stepped foot out of the hospital wing. A rather sweet, unexpected story that led to Hermione smiling happily for the couple, and joining in a few bouts of teasing. Yolanda may not have been the first person she pegged to date someone as wildly flirtatious and playful as Falco, but as the night wore on she began to really respect the girl for she was headstrong and intelligent, and she was delighted to see that a certain handsome dark-haired boy dotted on her like a lovesick puppy.

It was truly really cute.

"Ms Granger?"

Hermione turned around at the call of her name, nodding respectfully at the Transfiguration teacher. "Professor Dumbledore, sir."

"It has come to my realization that you do not have the basic necessities required of you as a student here in Hogwarts. A miscalculation on my part." His blue eyes twinkled merrily. "Since it is a Friday and you will not be having classes tomorrow, I took the liberty to ask our newest Professor a favor of escorting you to Diagon Alley, where you may purchase what is required."

"Oh Albus, none of that favor nonsense," cried out the shorter man who mysteriously appeared behind Dumbledore. "I needed to pick up a few things myself anyway and it would be my absolute pleasure to help Ms Granger out."

Up close the newest DADA professor looked even more breathtaking than she had remembered. While Falco was certainly one of the better-looking boys she had ever met, he could not hold a candle to his more mature brother. Professor Potter (even the name sounded strange in her head) was tall and lean, with messy jet-black hair and mysterious dark brown eyes that flashed with such mischief that she was greatly reminded of Sirius. He seemed to be the type to never stop smiling, or joking. Perhaps it was fickle of her, but she liked him immediately.

Hermione was taken by surprise, having assumed that she would just have to make do with whatever leftover equipments or books laid scattered around the school. It did not really make much a difference to her, especially since she had already taught herself all the material required for the N.E.W.T.s, but it was really kind of Dumbledore and Professor Potter (still strange!) to offer her this opportunity.

Just then, a startling thought occurred to her and her face fell. "But I don't have any money sir."

The DADA Professor let out a sudden laugh, "If that's what you're worried about, don't. I'll be happy to loan you enough for your school things."

Hermione looked up, mortified. "No!" She shook her head wildly in protest. "I will _never_ take money from you." She quickly added, "Sir."

"It's a loan, not a gift. You can pay me back eventually."

"H-How?"

He grinned. "Easy. You can help me grade papers for my first and second year classes."

The bushy-haired girl's mouth fell open. "Is that even legal?"

"Well… No. Not really." Dumbledore admitted, finally adding to the conversation. "But for this one occasion, we can make an exception." He smiled in that all-knowing way of his, but at that very moment Hermione just wanted to call him a traitor for not backing her up.

"I won't! I won't take your money. I refuse."

"Ms Granger, think of it as a homework assignment. You _have_ to do it."

It was only moments after, when she hurried out of the Great Hall to meet up with the gang of five that were patiently waiting for her, that she realized she had just been cleverly coerced by two wizards into accepting such a horrid proposal. But still, she couldn't help but feel a little grateful for it, especially since she could barely walk properly in the over-sized robes that she wore.

"What did Professor Dumbledore and my brother wanted?" Falco asked as he studied her reddened profile. Knowing that the fact that she had taken something that rightfully belonged to Falco as well just caused her to turn into an even deeper scarlet.

"I'm to head to London tomorrow to get some school things that I missed out on."

"Thank Merlin that tomorrow is a weekend," groaned John as they made their way towards the Gryffindor common room. "At least we get to rest some before classes start. NEWTs! Can you believe it?"

"It's our first day Lutterworth. It is almost a curse to mention exams," chastised Falco, before he turned his attention back to Hermione. "My brother's taking you then? At least you'll have some semblance of fun."

"He seems like a nice person…?"

"He is. Greatest brother one could ever ask for." Hermione felt really touched by this open declaration of affection. "And since he is a inferior version of myself, you'll at least be taken care of." Well, almost.

Lavinia rolled her eyes at his childishness before adding. "You will be careful though right? Grindelwald seems to be getting worse and worse every day. I'm sure Professor Potter-Merlin does that sound strange-will be able to protect you and all that, but it is better to be safe than sorry."

Hermione nodded in slight surprise at her concern, but Grindelwald is nothing compared to what Voldermort would become. Still, she reassured Lavinia that she would be fine.

"_Devil Snare._" Ignatius cut in just as they reached the familiar portrait of the Fat Lady. She nodded at them before the portrait swung open to reveal the Gryffindor Common Room.

It was a vast, comfortable, red-and-gold toned space filled with squashy armchairs and tables. At the end of the room stood a large fireplace and to its side, the Bulletin Board. It was exactly as it had been, or would be, the first real day she entered it, and it still took her breath away.

She had to bite down her lip, hard, to prevent herself from getting washed away by her nostalgia. She could still remember, as clear as day, sitting with Ron and Harry by the fire, chatting, doing homework, playing chess… Oh how she missed them both so, so much.

The others did not seem to notice her little predicament and she was jolted back to reality by both girls grabbing her arms. They called a cheerful, but tired good night to the boys, before they dragged her towards the girl's dormitory.

"I'm glad you're here. Because of the strange number of girls in our year, we have had an entire room to ourselves all this while, and I insist you join us!"

Hermione just nodded slowly, a little too tired, physically and emotionally, to argue.

Not that she wanted to in the first place.

It had been a long, dreadful, strange, exciting, and evocative day. But all in all, she did not really have much to complain about.

And if she did, she certainly did not have the chance to for she was asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

* * *

**So what do you think? Not much RiddlexHermione interaction for a while, more on character history and such first though. I want to try to make this entire thing as realistic (to the original HP) as possible. But hey, doesn't Charlus Potter sound like such an intriguing fellow? I myself would love to meet him. Heehee.**

**I have a pervy mind.**

**Anyway, thank you so much for your kind and generous reviews. 4 reviews for last chapter! +1 for the previous one. Not too shabby at all. So what do you think? Can we make it 5 this time? I know, I'. a scoundrel. But let's face it, people would read stories with more reviews. So if you actually like this story, do let me know what you think! Support. Constructive criticism is greatly encouraged as well, although flames- not so. I want to hear about everything though, what you thought of the story in general, the characters, how I'm portraying Hermione, etc.**

**Thank you Sweet Sweet Hedwig, Weird-Chik2, Helljumper_1337 and ifonlylifewassimple for reviewing. Your kind words and encouragement mean alot to me. **

**Sweet Sweet Hedwig: Thank you! I was hoping to make him out to be the evil, pompous ass that he truly is. =P**

**Weird-Chik2: Oops, not very fast this time round, but I'm in the midst of my exams. Should speed up eventually though. I can't wait for some interaction as well. =D GIRL POWER.**

**Helljumper 1337: Really? I always thought Death Eaters were vile enough to sodomize just about anything. I have a feeling Rowling only left that out due to her audience being largely minors. I do see what you're trying to get at, and I understand how you might come to that conclusion, but I'm trying to make Voldie and his gang to be seriously messed up in this story. Hence the M rating. When I say seriously, I mean, disgusting. But thank you for staying with me all throughout. You're the best you know? Honestly. =D**

**ifonlylifewassimple: Wow... That is one of the biggest compliments I've ever received. Thank you so so much. Thank you for your kind wishes, it's nearly over! One paper left.**

**As for the rest of you, many thanks for favouriting, reading and subscribing to this particular story. Hope that I've intruiged you enough to stay tune!**

**Much love,**

**Fee.**

**I apologize for the super-long AN.**

**xx**

**ps. BOOYEAH! 10K limit. DONE.**


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: Yes. I know I have been gone for... A very, very long time. Will explain myself! Promise. I also do not own anything HP.**

* * *

_"I will not say, do not weep, for not all tears are an evil." - JRR Tolkien_

**Chapter 3**

**One Midnight Gone  
**

"_Will you marry me?"_

"_Blimey Harry. Of course not."_

_Hermione had to stifle a laugh when the dark-haired teen sent his best friend a scalding glare. Ron Weasley just grinned in response, smacking the shorter boy on the shoulder._

"_You know I'm just kidding mate. I would marry you any day."_

_Harry ran a hand through his already-messy hair, tousling it up even more. "I'm not joking around Ron, I really am freaking out here."_

"_Oh Harry, you know you have nothing to worry about." Hermione added as she took stepped closer to him, patting down his mop of a hair in a very Molly Weasley manner, even though she knew it was a futile attempt. "Ginny's in love with you; and she has been for as long as any of us can remember. She will never say no."_

"_It's not just that. I mean, I do want this to be- well, perfect."_

_Hermione took several steps back, observing the boy- no, fully grown man before her with proud eyes. She had watched him mature from the young, brave, yet astoundingly foolish child to this amazingly intelligent, fine, handsome adult. The years of war and hardship did nothing but strengthen his resolve, willpower and spirit; he was a great man, an incredible man and she could have been more proud of a person she considered her brother._

"_Harry, the girl will be foolish to say no, even if you haven't put so much effort into this entire thing. Now come, let me see the ring."_

_Harry fished into his pocket and handed her a cute little velvet box tied with a white bow. But just as she reached out for it, the door leading to the boys' dormitory swung open and the person everyone did not want to see at the moment appeared at the doorway._

"_There you all are, I've been looking around for ages, have you guys seen-" Ginerva Weasley stopped short, staring at the trio and their suspiciously guilty faces. Her eyes narrowed as her gaze flitted from her best friend, to her brother, to her lover. "What is going on here?"_

_Not for the first time in her life did Hermione thank Harry's quick seeker reflexes. Already the box had vanished, peaking out sneakily from beneath Ron's bed covers. Hermione quickly turned and sat down on top of it._

"_Nothing." All three chimed at once, before sending each other startled glances, realizing that they had possibly just revealed themselves._

"_Right…" The younger redhead nodded, obviously unconvinced. "This better not be another one of your brilliant pranks, because I swear, Harry James Potter. If I end up blue one more time, you are never touching me again."_

_Harry visibly gulped. "W-well Gin, it's not what you think, you see-"_

_All of a sudden there was a loud, deafening siren that wailed through the castle, causing all participants of the conversation to go deathly pale. Professor McGonagoll's voice suddenly filled the space, "Will all staff and seventh year students head towards their respective posts. Sixth and fifth years, do make haste to the Grand Hall. This is not a drill. I repeat- this is not a drill. The Death Eaters are here."_

_Hermione let out a gasp as she scrambled off the bed and she was not the only one that sprung into action. By the time she looked up from ensuring she had everything, everyone already had their wands gripped tightly in their hands, mouths set in grim lines._

"_Hermione." Ron called out as he grabbed her wrist, pulling her into his arms. "Be careful alright?" She nodded into his shoulder, breathing in his wondrous scent and struggling to store that moment in her memory. At the corner of her eye, she could see Ginny and Harry in a similar embrace. And too soon, it was over and the couples pulled apart._

_Harry drew a deep breath, beautiful emerald eyes steeling over and nodded towards the doorway._

"_Let's go."_

_As the group of them rushed out of the room, Hermione quickly grabbed the almost-forgotten little velvet box and tucked it deep into her robes, promising to pass it back to Harry as soon as it was all over._

_This was it. It was do or die._

_I love you. She told Ron through watery brown eyes, and the way he looked at her told her he felt the same. And that was that, with a final squeeze of her hand, they went their separate ways._

_She should have said more._

**###**

Hermione shuddered as she slowly opened her eyes, allowing herself a moment to regain her groundings. Her skin was slick with sweat and the robes she had worn from the day before were plastered to her skin quite disgustingly. Moaning softly at her abysmal state, she forced her aching body to comply with her demands, and made her way quietly to the bathroom.

It was still dark, and the clock at the corner of their dormitory told her that she had a good 4 hours before she had to meet up with the man she suspected to be Harry's relative. Opting to take advantage of the empty shower, Hermione quickly stripped and stepped under the warm water, breathing out a huge sigh of relief as the warmth soothed away her anxieties.

When was the last time she allowed herself to take her time in the shower? When was the last time she was able to revel in comforting cascading waters without the fear of an attack while she was in her most vulnerable state? But whatever the time period, she still wasn't comfortable leaving her wand behind.

Old habits die hard.

Sighing, the 18-year-old girl reached to turn off the tap, before stepping out onto the cool marble floor, wrapping a fluffy white towel around her. She had aimed to walk right out of the bathroom, but something on the wall stopped her short.

What in the living Hell was that?

Stepping closer to the fogged up glass, Hermione rubbed away the condensed liquid, revealing a stranger in the mirror that caused her to gasp in surprise.

That couldn't be her. No way.

Although she wouldn't consider herself one of the prettier girls in her year, she still held a sufficient amount of pride in her looks. Hermione was by no means vain, but she did still take the time to take care of herself. After that one incident with Malfoy and her rabbit teeth, she had grown more confident in her appearance and Viktor Krum's attention did nothing but help her self-esteem. So perhaps it was understandable how she could only gape at the ghost of who she used to be staring back at her.

Her once healthy, lively bushy hair hung limp around her body, lovely copper sheen replaced by an awful mud-brown. It had certainly grown out and was nearly reaching her lower back due to the lack of time she had to groom or trim it, opting to just tie it up in a high ponytail instead so that it did not get in her way. Because of that same reason it was also lacking entirely of any shape or form; in fact she was strangely reminded of Sirius when he first escaped Azkaban.

It was gruesome.

She winced as her eyes traveled down her face and naked body for it certainly did not get any better. She used to be rather proud of her bright, brown eyes – lovely orbs, or so they told her, that shone with intelligence and inner-beauty, but looking into them now they just reminded her of dead bark: lifeless and unimportant. Her cheeks were hollowed in from the lack of sustenance and her skin was ghastly pale. Her breasts had shrunk at least two sizes and she could see her ribs clearly even when breathing evenly. Her nails, although clean now thanks to the furious scrubbing in the shower, were broken and chipped; and her hands: rough and full of scars. There was a large, pale, plastic-looking line that stretched from her lower abdomen to her right thigh, courtesy of a stray curse that hit her during an earlier fight. All in all she was a mess: a huge, disgusting, glob of a mess.

It irked her more than she should have let it.

She reached out, and watched herself do the same. As her fingers graced over the cold surface, she was suddenly struck by how surreal her current situation was. How unfair, how pitiful… How sad.

Oh Ron… Harry… Ginny, Mr and Mrs Weasley, the twins, Seamus and Dean, all of her professors… Her hands shook widely, eyes turning glossy from unshed tears and she slowly collapsed, curling into a shuddering ball on the icy floor. But she barely felt it; she was blind, and there was a high-pitched ringing noise in her ear that drowned out all sound. She could feel nothing but a hole in her chest, as though her heart was missing, and it was agonizing.

Her mouth and throat worked into a soundless scream, grief swallowing her in such a way that she had never imagined possible. She wanted to die, she wanted to stop the pain of having lost everyone, she wanted to join them wherever they were, where they could once again joke and laugh and find adventures in every nook and cranny.

She couldn't remember feeling this much pain before, not even when her parents were killed.

For a long time, minutes, hours, she lay there; a truly broken soul with tears and sweat coating her ashen skin. Breathing hurt and she couldn't muster the strength or willpower to move, so instead, she remained a tight, vulnerable bundle, lying lifeless on the floor.

It was only when the sun began streaming into the windows that she began to move. Her body moved on its own accord, getting onto its feet, ignoring the sore muscles and bruised skin.

"Hermione?" A sleepy voice called out. Tugging the towel tighter around herself Hermione spun around, fighting against the panic that thundered through her heart, fighting against the instinct to immediately cast a defensive spell. "What are you doing up?"

The speaker yawned, and it took a while for Hermione to push pass the haze of anxiety to register that it was Yolanda. Breathing out a sigh of relief, the girl took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, before answering. "Nothing." She thanked Merlin that her voice didn't tremble. "I just couldn't sleep anymore that's all."

Yolanda shuffled pass her towards the lavatories, obviously still half asleep by the way she dragged her feet, but Hermione was thankful for it. At least she didn't have to explain why she was in such a state. "Alright." Another yawn.

Casting a quick _scorgify_ on her robes, the bushy-haired girl called out a gentle "I'll see you later." That was responded with a half-hearted affirmative, before she exited the bathroom and returned to her four-poster bed, drawing the curtains tight. Shuddering slightly, Hermione lied back down onto her bed, allowing herself to fall back into the quiet grief.

**###**

An hour later Hermione found herself leaning against one of the pillars outside Charlus Potter's office, impatiently waiting for a certain professor that was just over ten minutes late. For the first time in her entire life, her mind was in the state of complete disarray; she was thinking about everything, and nothing at the same time. It confused her, and yet she felt as though it were utterly fitting.

"Miss Granger?"

Turning around at the call of her name, the young witch sent the messy-looking professor that was hurrying towards her a nod in greeting. "Professor Potter."

"So sorry I'm late. There was an incident in our storage room." He winced, brushing off what looked like feathers off his robe. "Pixies are absolutely loathsome creatures." Hermione blinked, unable to stop the slight smile from gracing her face at the thought of her last interaction with the mischievous blue creatures.

"And there it is," said the Professor, grinning at her.

Hermione did a double take. "I'm sorry?"

"That smile. You look a little under the weather at the moment, is everything okay?"

The brunette turned pink at his blatant analysis of her mood, and turned her face away. "Yeah. Everything is good."

He sent her a look that said he obviously did not believe her, but chose to leave it alone. Instead, he beckoned her into his office, "we will be traveling to Diagon Alley using Flu. I trust that you know how to use it?" He asked, gesturing towards the fireplace.

Nodding, Hermione reached into the bag that he held out and stepped into the roaring fire, feeling the familiar tickle. Clearing her throat, she clearly shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and with that, disappeared.

* * *

**To be honest, I actually wrote this chapter a long time ago. And just did not know where I was going with it and stopped. It is quite a short chapter and I apologize for that. But perhaps there are other things I should be apologizing for.**

**I've been gone a long while... For more than four months in fact. Things just got crazy, with the boyfriend (now ex), leaving the country to come to the States, exams, Summer, settling in, etc. I lost my will to write and I just couldn't find it in myself to produce anything worthwhile... Until today.**

**As per usual, I was just procrastinating on studying for Midterms. Sigh. And hence I decided to write and reread my story.**

**For those of you that read both this and my other ME fics, I can tell you now that I probably will NOT be updating my ME stories up until at least Christmas. Mostly because I no longer have the ability to play ME (without my computer system back home) and can barely even remember where/what/how anything happened. I know... 6 months of idle nothings can turn anyone to that state. However, I do intend to (hopefully) keep up with this story, although I make no promises.**

**But thank you so, so much for all of your support my darling readers. Without a review that I got today, I probably would not have spared this story another thought for a couple of months. Plus, I forgot how good it felt to write. So I'm hoping I'd get back to the general gist of it.**

**Hopefully.**

**Thank you all those of you that reviewed, favourite and followed this story. I really appreciate it, you have no idea.**

**Zelma Kallas, Helljumper 1337 (God, I love you.), Mystiqueee and dramonielives. You guys are the reason I live really. Or breathe.**

**I hope you will still let me know what you think, and the rest of the new readers (if there are any.) And I will (HOPEFULLY) see y'all next chapter.**

**Much love,**

**Fy**

**xx**


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: I do not own any of the original Harry Potter characters. (Obviously, or my name would be JK Rowling.)**

* * *

_"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." - Maya Angelou_**  
**

**Chapter 5**

**Forget-Me-Not  
**

Hermione stepped gingerly out of the fireplace, patting down her robes to get rid of the dust and soot, noting with great dissatisfaction that it barely made a difference since the hand-me-downs seemed to want to remain dirty. Recognizing the situation as futile, she left out a sigh and focused her attention to her surroundings instead.

The Leaky Cauldron looked no different from the future aside from a few tweaks in the decoration here and there. It was an odd time of day therefore business was a little slow. She recognized a ghoul or two lurking at the far right of the inn, as well as a pair of individuals she suspected to be vampires conversing quietly at the back. Little groups of witches and wizards chatted animatedly amongst themselves and the smell of butterbeer lingered sweetly in the air.

"_Oh my God." she whispered underneath her breath, staring with wide-eyes at the scene that lay before her. Blackened debris littered the floor, together with the dark stains of blood and grime. The suffocating stench of burnt and mangled flesh filled her nostrils and had she not gotten accustomed to such foulness a long time ago, she would have lost her lunch right then and there. Above her, somehow still starkly clear despite the black smoke, floated the dreaded Dark Mark, an omen that made her feel like her stomach was made of lead._

_A warm arm wrapped itself around her waist, causing her to jump slightly, only to realize after a deep inhale that it was just Ron, who seemed equally as horrified as she was at the state of the only Wizarding district they knew._

"_Do you think they got out in time?" He muttered, eyes gleaming with unshed tears at the terrifying sight. Hermione bit her bottom lip, too afraid to reply as she reluctantly pulled out of the comforting embrace. She took out her wand, ignoring her shaking hands as she began to move the fallen bricks and walls aside._

"_There is only one way to find out…"_

That was how they discovered that the Death Eaters had successfully intercepted their only means of private communication between the members of the Light. The Order had sent warnings to Diagon Alley early on, giving them ample time to disperse and escape, but the innocent habitants never received said message. While the bulk of the Order dealt with what they assumed was the main threat, Voldermort had sent the other half of his growing army to occupy Diagon Alley – and by occupy, she meant completely and utterly destroyed it; including all the occupants that did not commit to his cause immediately. That was the battle that lost them Bill Weasley and Tonks. Hermione and Ron weren't the ones that found their bodies, but she still remembered their funerals like it was yesterday.

So much death and destruction… You'd think she would be used to it by now.

"Ms Granger…?" Uncertain, large brown eyes stared into her own, startling her out of her thoughts. Shaking her head lightly, Hermione retightened her grip on reality.

"S-sorry sir." She apologized as she stumbled backwards slightly, cheeks flushing a little. "Just woolgathering."

The professor blinked, curiosity etched across his features, but wisely chose not to pursue it. "It's completely fine." He replied, beaming and reverting back to his cheerful, energetic self. "Shall we get started then? You have quite a number of things to get."

Nodding, Hermione forced her mind to clear, shoving down the volatile memories as deep as they would go, before putting on a small smile and following her best friend's possible grandfather out the door.

Much like the Leaky Cauldron, the rest of Diagon Alley more or less resembled the one from her time, before Voldermort reappeared of course. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Madam Malkin's, Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment and several other smaller shops were the only ones that were missing, and in their place stood shops that sold similar things, just owned by different franchises.

"Alright… Let's see here." The dark-haired professor reached into his robe, pulling out a slightly wrinkled parchment listing the things she required for the coming year. "Most of the books we have spares and therefore do not need to get… Except for two. Since I need to go and pick up several other journals anyway, why not I go grab them and you go get your uniform done and I'll come by as soon as I finish up with that?" He flashed her a quick smile and pointed her towards where Madam Malkin's would later be, now a small, quaint shop by the name of Robert's Robes.

"Are you sure…?" Hermione asked, a little uncertain at having a _professor_ run an errand for her. "I could gather all my equipment myself."

"Yes. Yes. Go. I'll be by to pay for them in a bit."

At those words the bushy-haired witch went scarlet, before turning around swiftly and headed towards the store. She absolutely loathed having to borrow money off people, even if it is given with good intentions. Sighing and shaking her head at her lack of choice, the girl entered the clothing shop reluctantly.

It took Mrs Robert (a pink-faced, motherly-looking lady in her late 50s) half an hour to measure, fit and match Hermione to her new school robes. She did her best to ignore the plump woman's little noises of disapproval as she tutted at the skeletal condition the younger girl's body was in. Staring miserably into the mirror that propped against the wall in front of her, it honestly didn't surprise Hermione that she gartered such a reaction. She resembled nothing short of a ghost.

"Here you go m'dear. Try these on." The shopkeeper handed her a set of robes that she carefully shrugged on, trying to avoid getting stuck by the numerous needles that the seamstress had added on to ensure they got the right size. Stepping back Mrs Roberts shook her head slowly. "Unfortunately dearie, this is the tightest our smallest robes will go to that will fit your height. I would shrink them magically, but I think we should leave it that way, at least until you get some meat on those bones."

The seamstress gave her a knowing look, which Hermione just silently nodded to. In a matter of minutes, Charlus Potter arrived and they were out of the store with two new pairs of school robes as well as several other clothing items that Hermione could wear for leisure.

"Here." The professor took Hermione's bags away from her (in spite of her protests) and shrunk them, fitting the items away into his pocket. He winked at her, "I know you're of age now. But I always tend to get a little nervous whenever students do magic outside of school." He shuddered slightly, as though disturbed by a memory. Hermione raised an eyebrow to that, but chose not to comment. If only the Professor knew exactly how long she had been doing magic outside of school grounds… And the kind of magic she used.

"What should we get next sir?"

"Now Ms Granger. I know I am your professor, but I would love if you could call me Charlus, or Potter, especially outside Hogwarts. Sometimes feel like I'm a little too young for this." He sighed playfully, running a hand through his untamable black hair; Hermione was suddenly hit by an image of Harry doing the exact same thing and something inside of her broke.

Tears sprung unbidden into her eyes and she had to turn away, hand scrambling for support on the nearest wall, disguising her lack of composure with several violent coughs.

"Ms Granger!" Potter cried, alarmed. "Are you alright?"

Taking a few deep breaths, she quickly wiped her eyes, chastising herself for her lack of strength, before turning back to the professor. Clearing her throat, she nodded. "Yes… I am fine. Thank you." She winced as her voice cracked. Mentally kicking herself, she gathered all of her willpower and cleared her head. "Just breathed in too much dust that's all."

"Are you sure? Do you want to head back?"

"No. No." The busy-haired girl forced a smile. "And I was just about to say, please feel free to call me Hermione."

The DADA professor slowly nodded, allowing the matter to drop. "Sounds like a deal. But are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes sir- Mr Potter. Why not we just continue with the things we need to get?"

By the time they got back to Hogwarts, the sun was already beginning to set. She gave the professor (it was still infinitely strange to refer him as Potter) a small, grateful smile and wave before leaving his office, pockets filled with shrunken items and a new shiny cage clasped under her arm.

Despite all her protests, Charlus Potter insisted that she _had_ to have a pet. She absolutely refused to allow him to get her one, especially since it just meant that she was spending more of his money needlessly, but the stubborn man disappeared for several minutes, only to reappear with a beautiful snowy owl in a gorgeous brass cage. He told her that if she did not take it, he would just leave the poor owl in the middle of Diagon Alley by itself. Seeing no way out, the girl was forced to accept it, but not before swearing that she will do something in return to show her gratitude.

Spending time with the professor brought both heartache and contentment. He reminded her of her very own Potter so much, both in demeanor and looks. But at the same time she could tell they were different in many ways. Where Charlus was funny and humorous, Harry was serious and innocent; where Charlus was boisterous and energetic, Harry was humble and soft-spoken. At the end of the day however, she had absolutely no doubt that Charlus was related to Harry. They were just too alike in many ways. A fondness that she did not expect crept up on her, seeping straight into her heart for this man that would one day bring life to her best friend.

It was sad and nostalgic, yet a beautiful thought at the same time.

One thing was for certain, she was sick to her stomach with grief and love for her lost friends. Regardless of her attempts to carry on cheerfully and happily, there were many moments were her armor cracked, revealing the broken soul inside. She was somewhat glad that she had today to fix those little breaks, because as understanding as the professor may seem, she was quite sure her peers would not give her that same sort of leeway.

Sensing a sort of mood change, her new companion cooed, bringing Hermione back to reality. She stopped just by a window, placing the cage on the sill. She looked down sadly at the gorgeous creature inside. The owl was a wonderful pure white, with black marking around its beady gold eyes. Opening the cage, the owl stepped out and flew to perch herself on Hermione's shoulder, nipping her gently on the ear in affection.

"You're so beautiful." Hermione whispered softly, in genuine awe of the creature. It wasn't a lost on her the irony of another Potter picking out a snowy owl. "What should I call you then…?" She asked her softly. "How about… Hedwig?"

The creature cooed again, fluttering her wings in acceptance. Hermione smiled, eyes once again wet with unshed tears. She gently petted the newly-dubbed Hedwig, enjoying the feeling of its soft feathers under her fingers. "You should go now. I will come visit you tomorrow. Go get some good rest."

Hedwig nipped her finger lightly, before taking off out of the window and into the growing darkness. Hermione sighed, watching her as she slowly disappeared from view.

"Oh Harry… Ron… Everyone… I miss you, so, so much." She whispered as she leaned against the window ledge, tucking her face into her crossed arms. "I don't know if I can do this… I don't know how long I can stand this… It hurts so much. It hurts so much to know that I'm all alone." She ignored the fact that her sleeves were starting to feel a little wet. "How can I go on? How…?"

"...Are you alright miss?"

In a matter of seconds her wand was out of its holster and pointed towards the throat of the stranger. Chest heaving and heart thudding out of fear, it took her a moment to register the shocked, yet surprisingly unafraid look of the one and only Tom Riddle staring down at her.

Her heart stopped.

* * *

**So finally I have begun to write again. After such a long break, I have finally found the will within me to pick up a pen (or in this case, my laptop) and get the brain juices running. I must say, I have truly forgotten how good this feels.**

**I am hoping to maybe get enough heart going to update my other fics as well... Although that takes a little more energy because I have to do so much research on ME1 all over again, because I've forgotten everything. But anyway... Enough about the others and more about this one.**

**I would like to think that this chapter is a little less than satisfactory. I don't really feel particularly proud, but I think it is because I feel like it is slightly disjointed from the previous chapters. The long time gap between when I wrote the previous ones and this one made me feel a little off... As one might after a long ass break. But I'm hoping with more writing and more practise I can get my head back into the game. **

**So anyway, let me know what you think (please) I've been trying to find other fanfictions to inspire me to write more... But I haven't exactly found one that struck me as excellent... (That I haven't already read) dear readers, do let me know of your favourite HP/ME fanfics so that I can give them a try. I need a jumpstart on my brain.**

**Thank you Leo, Helljumper 1337 and Jen103 for reviewing. I know, the previous chapter was a little bit weak. Again, I blame the time gap. I hope to hear back from more of you. Remember, criticisms and compliments are both equally welcomed =] =] =]**

**Hope to see y'all next chapter.**

**Much love,**

**Fy**

**xx**


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